


Bird of Prey and Peace

by lotsandnoneatall



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Multi, not sure where this is going yet so yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 18:02:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotsandnoneatall/pseuds/lotsandnoneatall





	Bird of Prey and Peace

Her black high heels clicked repeatedly on the tile in the narrow hallway as she walked purposely towards a white door. The clacking of her heels ceased as it was muffled by the room’s beige carpet. A man lay crumpled in the center.

            She had a large purple bag. She threw it down carelessly and her voice echoed in the nearly empty room.

            “Darling, it’s time to get up.” The man groaned as he rolled over and squinted up at her. A look of recognition and contempt flashed across his face before he rather militaristically composed himself. He did not speak.

            She began rummaging through the bag as she spoke. “Look, I might not see you for a while…” She trailed off as she revealed a change of clothes—casual clothes. A pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a sweatshirt, and sneakers. She began to strip off her current outfit: couture dress, designer shoes, diamond earrings. She took out the pins holding up her elaborate up-do. Her chocolate hair fell down in long curls. The man remained silent.

            She grinned at him. “It’s silly, isn’t it? You get so used to one thing, to one dimension. You grow accustomed to all these expectations, all these archetypes.” She waved her hand dismissively and pulled over the hooded sweatshirt. “Well, I guess that’s a discussion for another time. I just wanted to say goodbye.” She gathered her former outfit into her bag and turned to leave.

            “Was any of it real?”

            She turned back to the man placidly. “No, dear, I’m afraid not.” She paused. “Well, I suppose _he_ was.”

            Again, she reached for the doorknob, but then decided against it. She quickly pulled out a short riding crop from the purple bag and hit him firmly across the face. He fell over.

            The woman smiled down at the barely conscious man. “Until we meet again, John Watson.”


End file.
